lunafides - Hello Poetry

wasps and spiders sprawled across your walls look, you have cobwebs on your eyes from staring too much at ceilings wondering where to hang the rope waiting for the world to end so you are sinking in the bed your room is starting to look like the forest after a rainstorm there are mosses and molds clawing in the cracks of your chest darling, when have you last taken a bath? your hair is starting to grow tangled like the thoughts inside your head why are you showering yourself with wrath? telling yourself everybody wants you dead everybody wants you dead everybody wants you dead darling, wake up you're dreaming again there's no one out to get you. look, your phone is ringing your friends are calling telling you they love you asking when you'll be back but the roots have held you back to your thoughts and your thoughts have told you to go where the roots are where there are no loud noises, only silence only the soft earth welcoming you in its arms but darling, you can't sleep yourself out of existence so you continue to grow the forest in your room you are turning into detritus fertilizing the vines that will probably wrap around your neck someday still, you hide the blades you take your meds you listen to your morning meditation and run and run and run you tell yourself i will get out of this mess i will get out of this mess i will get out of this mess because you only have you. there's no one out to get you. and even in delirious dreams where you see the darkness creeping in and hear the demons whispering still you'll find that there are no ghosts and ghouls haunting you or monsters under your bed it's all in your head silly little girl, there's nothing out there to get you because everything out to get you is in you. and i know you want to be saved want a hand to hold and reach for or a listening ear and an open door but silly little girl, there's nothing out there to get you.

0

Nov 1, 2025

Nov 1, 2025 at 5:18 AM UTC

there is no one out to get you

wasps and spiders sprawled across your walls look, you have cobwebs on your eyes from staring too much at ceilings wondering where to hang the rope waiting for the world to end so you are sinking in the bed your room is starting to look like the forest after a rainstorm there are mosses and molds clawing in the cracks of your chest darling, when have you last taken a bath? your hair is starting to grow tangled like the thoughts inside your head why are you showering yourself with wrath? telling yourself everybody wants you dead everybody wants you dead everybody wants you dead darling, wake up you're dreaming again there's no one out to get you. look, your phone is ringing your friends are calling telling you they love you asking when you'll be back but the roots have held you back to your thoughts and your thoughts have told you to go where the roots are where there are no loud noises, only silence only the soft earth welcoming you in its arms but darling, you can't sleep yourself out of existence so you continue to grow the forest in your room you are turning into detritus fertilizing the vines that will probably wrap around your neck someday still, you hide the blades you take your meds you listen to your morning meditation and run and run and run you tell yourself i will get out of this mess i will get out of this mess i will get out of this mess because you only have you. there's no one out to get you. and even in delirious dreams where you see the darkness creeping in and hear the demons whispering still you'll find that there are no ghosts and ghouls haunting you or monsters under your bed it's all in your head silly little girl, there's nothing out there to get you because everything out to get you is in you. and i know you want to be saved want a hand to hold and reach for or a listening ear and an open door but silly little girl, there's nothing out there to get you.

63

I am finally here I finally watched the series you promised to watch with me—alone I finally had the courage to talk about you with my sister and laugh I finally talked to someone and not see your shadow in his steps So many small finally’s To trample the used to be’s So this is how it finally feels to finally get over you. There are no more vines in my chest No more tangled mess between loving you and letting you go It took a long while to sort myself back but I can finally feel my lungs again No more choking when your name pops up in conversations No more sadness when I walk the same sidewalks I used to walk with you The wound has turned to scar The scar took shelter on my skin. Everything heals the moment you decide you want to heal The wanting is always the beginning of the becoming The world moves, and so do you If you believe it to And in my heart, there will always be space for you And in that same space, I’ve rebuilt a home again This time knowing I can never unlove you but only love you in a different way And I will. It took a long while to sort myself back But I am here. I am finally here to say Thank you. Thank you for stopping by.

0

Jul 8, 2018

Jul 8, 2018 at 8:24 PM UTC

Finally

I am finally here I finally watched the series you promised to watch with me—alone I finally had the courage to talk about you with my sister and laugh I finally talked to someone and not see your shadow in his steps So many small finally’s To trample the used to be’s So this is how it finally feels to finally get over you. There are no more vines in my chest No more tangled mess between loving you and letting you go It took a long while to sort myself back but I can finally feel my lungs again No more choking when your name pops up in conversations No more sadness when I walk the same sidewalks I used to walk with you The wound has turned to scar The scar took shelter on my skin. Everything heals the moment you decide you want to heal The wanting is always the beginning of the becoming The world moves, and so do you If you believe it to And in my heart, there will always be space for you And in that same space, I’ve rebuilt a home again This time knowing I can never unlove you but only love you in a different way And I will. It took a long while to sort myself back But I am here. I am finally here to say Thank you. Thank you for stopping by.

33

So here you are again at the footsteps of the walls I’ve rebuilt over and over again asking me to let you in. I know this is not the first time that you’ve returned from your wars with the world. You are wounded and weary Your eyes look so dead I can see the graveyard behind them You've lost so much, my love. including yourself. and you know, if you would just let me I would tuck all those bombs away, Throw them to the skies and let them light up our lives instead of them burning and bruising our bodies but you won't give up arms yes, you're reaching out but you won't let me hold your hand So we both know this wouldn’t end well my bones are still shaking from all the trauma you’ve caused my love, please understand my heart is not a church. You cannot just return when you feel like it and pray for me to forgive your sins. I am not a god. I am only human. And there is a limit to how much hurt I can take. Do you think your “sorry’s” are enough to sew these spaces you’ve sown in my soul? Don't you know how hard it is to keep living when all you've been doing is leaving me behind? I still love you. I think I always will. But please don’t think I can keep on breaking myself just to keep you whole.

0

May 24, 2018

May 24, 2018 at 10:09 PM UTC

To the One who Keeps Coming Back

So here you are again at the footsteps of the walls I’ve rebuilt over and over again asking me to let you in. I know this is not the first time that you’ve returned from your wars with the world. You are wounded and weary Your eyes look so dead I can see the graveyard behind them You've lost so much, my love. including yourself. and you know, if you would just let me I would tuck all those bombs away, Throw them to the skies and let them light up our lives instead of them burning and bruising our bodies but you won't give up arms yes, you're reaching out but you won't let me hold your hand So we both know this wouldn’t end well my bones are still shaking from all the trauma you’ve caused my love, please understand my heart is not a church. You cannot just return when you feel like it and pray for me to forgive your sins. I am not a god. I am only human. And there is a limit to how much hurt I can take. Do you think your “sorry’s” are enough to sew these spaces you’ve sown in my soul? Don't you know how hard it is to keep living when all you've been doing is leaving me behind? I still love you. I think I always will. But please don’t think I can keep on breaking myself just to keep you whole.

45

i witnessed a burglary today. kids were seating at the back side of the jeepney ***** feet hanging, snot running down their noses the one beside me says, “these kids will be thieves one day.” and i look at these little mud-eyed ones filled with silent anger and confusion. if this is how we cast them how could they change something that was molded in stone for them? we are responsible for the next generation and yet we rob these children a chance to create their own identity and blame them for things we should’ve done something about.

0

Mar 31, 2018

Mar 31, 2018 at 6:53 AM UTC

the change we don't change

i witnessed a burglary today. kids were seating at the back side of the jeepney ***** feet hanging, snot running down their noses the one beside me says, “these kids will be thieves one day.” and i look at these little mud-eyed ones filled with silent anger and confusion. if this is how we cast them how could they change something that was molded in stone for them? we are responsible for the next generation and yet we rob these children a chance to create their own identity and blame them for things we should’ve done something about.

21

i feel like there is so much love left when people leave us and we have no idea what to do with them so we keep them in boxes, we store them in drawers and sometimes, we wear them on cold nights when no one is watching. all around us we make sure we live in a place with no trace of what has been yet every closet is filled with the bones of a dead love and every corner is a reminder of where we got lost we hide the things they left behind, we create mausoleums out of our rooms and call it “moving on” even my room is haunted with his hasty departure his old sweatshirt, his silk necktie, and the ocean blue summer dress he gave me gather dust as a relic of a past i have exhibited in the walls of my broken heart i buy cigarettes and try to remember the taste of his nicotine mouth i study my face in the mirror and try to remember the look of the girl he fell in love with i stay in the nights longer i skip all the cracks in the pavement i keep wishing he come back one day i woke up in a cold bathroom floor filled with my tears and ***** that’s when I knew where all the leftover love goes it seeds hatred then grows into despair and finally bears the fruit of grief there is no reasoning with a broken heart only grief and grief is the greatest leftover love there is it spills all over and seals your chest tight until you feel no fight and no other so i waited and wasted away until my ribs cracked under the pressure of all the grief flowing out and one day i realized i left one of his jackets in my old apartment abroad i couldn’t bring it any longer my luggage is filled with so many new things and his was a heavy garment i just couldn’t carry anymore.

0

Mar 31, 2018

Mar 31, 2018 at 3:55 AM UTC

leftover love

i feel like there is so much love left when people leave us and we have no idea what to do with them so we keep them in boxes, we store them in drawers and sometimes, we wear them on cold nights when no one is watching. all around us we make sure we live in a place with no trace of what has been yet every closet is filled with the bones of a dead love and every corner is a reminder of where we got lost we hide the things they left behind, we create mausoleums out of our rooms and call it “moving on” even my room is haunted with his hasty departure his old sweatshirt, his silk necktie, and the ocean blue summer dress he gave me gather dust as a relic of a past i have exhibited in the walls of my broken heart i buy cigarettes and try to remember the taste of his nicotine mouth i study my face in the mirror and try to remember the look of the girl he fell in love with i stay in the nights longer i skip all the cracks in the pavement i keep wishing he come back one day i woke up in a cold bathroom floor filled with my tears and ***** that’s when I knew where all the leftover love goes it seeds hatred then grows into despair and finally bears the fruit of grief there is no reasoning with a broken heart only grief and grief is the greatest leftover love there is it spills all over and seals your chest tight until you feel no fight and no other so i waited and wasted away until my ribs cracked under the pressure of all the grief flowing out and one day i realized i left one of his jackets in my old apartment abroad i couldn’t bring it any longer my luggage is filled with so many new things and his was a heavy garment i just couldn’t carry anymore.

61

skins aren’t skins in this world. they’re death threats inked permanently on your bones covering your body with scratches and stereotypes, bringing bruises and bullets to your head and the only way to stay safe is if the ink is white. skins are signs to know which ones will pay the price if you close your eyes you will see the color to marginalize warped in a wrapped world do we even see beyond what pigment we have or are we wrapped around a warped world where pain is really skin deep. isn’t it strange? we live in a world where the color of your skin indicates how people see you and the darker it is, the more invisible you become. i wish we were all color blind.

0

Nov 12, 2016

Nov 12, 2016 at 8:19 AM UTC

skins

skins aren’t skins in this world. they’re death threats inked permanently on your bones covering your body with scratches and stereotypes, bringing bruises and bullets to your head and the only way to stay safe is if the ink is white. skins are signs to know which ones will pay the price if you close your eyes you will see the color to marginalize warped in a wrapped world do we even see beyond what pigment we have or are we wrapped around a warped world where pain is really skin deep. isn’t it strange? we live in a world where the color of your skin indicates how people see you and the darker it is, the more invisible you become. i wish we were all color blind.

35

i. do everything they want you to. wear clothes that are not too short or not too long. wear shoes that make you look smaller. do not, and i repeat, do not have piercings and tattoos they look ***** on you. After all, you do not own your body. ii. displace your beliefs and put them all in stacks of paper. shove them all in your mouth and don’t talk unless you’re spoken to. if this is not enough, cut your tongue and sew your mouth shut. always remember: your opinion doesn’t matter. you’re just a girl. iii. if they stare at you, ignore it. if they call you names and speak to you as if you’re not human. treat it as a compliment. you’re pretty. iv. never aim for greater things. the worst thing for a woman to have is ambitions. v. finally, smile and keep those legs open. soon enough, you’ll forget who you ever were. You are worse than nothing— you are just a girl.

0

Nov 12, 2016

Nov 12, 2016 at 8:17 AM UTC

steps to being a good girl

i. do everything they want you to. wear clothes that are not too short or not too long. wear shoes that make you look smaller. do not, and i repeat, do not have piercings and tattoos they look ***** on you. After all, you do not own your body. ii. displace your beliefs and put them all in stacks of paper. shove them all in your mouth and don’t talk unless you’re spoken to. if this is not enough, cut your tongue and sew your mouth shut. always remember: your opinion doesn’t matter. you’re just a girl. iii. if they stare at you, ignore it. if they call you names and speak to you as if you’re not human. treat it as a compliment. you’re pretty. iv. never aim for greater things. the worst thing for a woman to have is ambitions. v. finally, smile and keep those legs open. soon enough, you’ll forget who you ever were. You are worse than nothing— you are just a girl.

6

Manic Pixie Dream Girl fingerpainted rainbow on a flat canvass, you are cardboard pretty. Like this pastel-colored cupcake you once saw on television with sprinkles and little marshmallows on top something you know you can never taste but still thought “That must be delicious.” One-sided postcard With a beautiful scenery at the front and empty surface at the back No words to tell No stories to give Just a vacant lot. Manic Pixie Dream Girl I’ve always thought you were beautiful. with your colors spilling out of your being and your smiles that could light up anybody’s world I’ve always thought it was like peering through a kaleidoscope And you were a perfect symmetry of everything a little boy could ever dream of. So as I grew up I dreamed to be something like you. And for a while, Without really meaning to I was something like you. People often told me, “You are so pretty.” “You are nice and funny.” “You have a great smile.” “You are fun to be with.” “You are different.” and guys liked me. They adored me. most especially when I exist only for them. When I am there to pick up the pieces and make them whole again. But manic pixie dream girl I realized I am no dream girl I am just— me. I feel ugly most of the time. I eat a lot when I’m sad. I am very impulsive. I give irrational comments. I have temper tantrums when I don’t get what I want. I get scared of the dark. I cut when I am hurt. And there are days when I just want to sleep and disappear forever. I am no dream girl. I am just a real girl. Trying to make it out alive in the real world. I am not a navigator meant to save lost boys. I am not a box of crayons meant to grow smaller as I color this blank page of a guy I am not a white glue meant to disappear once I am dry I am not a bandage meant to heal wounds on careless little children. I am not supposed to be a fantasy I am flesh and bones I am human with ribcages that are meant to crush with the weight of a broken heart I have lungs I can breathe on my own. I don’t need a broken boy to feel that I have a purpose in life. I am my own destruction. I am my own salvation. I am no dream girl. Please wake up.

0

Sep 4, 2016

Sep 4, 2016 at 9:02 PM UTC

Manic Pixie Dream Girl

Manic Pixie Dream Girl fingerpainted rainbow on a flat canvass, you are cardboard pretty. Like this pastel-colored cupcake you once saw on television with sprinkles and little marshmallows on top something you know you can never taste but still thought “That must be delicious.” One-sided postcard With a beautiful scenery at the front and empty surface at the back No words to tell No stories to give Just a vacant lot. Manic Pixie Dream Girl I’ve always thought you were beautiful. with your colors spilling out of your being and your smiles that could light up anybody’s world I’ve always thought it was like peering through a kaleidoscope And you were a perfect symmetry of everything a little boy could ever dream of. So as I grew up I dreamed to be something like you. And for a while, Without really meaning to I was something like you. People often told me, “You are so pretty.” “You are nice and funny.” “You have a great smile.” “You are fun to be with.” “You are different.” and guys liked me. They adored me. most especially when I exist only for them. When I am there to pick up the pieces and make them whole again. But manic pixie dream girl I realized I am no dream girl I am just— me. I feel ugly most of the time. I eat a lot when I’m sad. I am very impulsive. I give irrational comments. I have temper tantrums when I don’t get what I want. I get scared of the dark. I cut when I am hurt. And there are days when I just want to sleep and disappear forever. I am no dream girl. I am just a real girl. Trying to make it out alive in the real world. I am not a navigator meant to save lost boys. I am not a box of crayons meant to grow smaller as I color this blank page of a guy I am not a white glue meant to disappear once I am dry I am not a bandage meant to heal wounds on careless little children. I am not supposed to be a fantasy I am flesh and bones I am human with ribcages that are meant to crush with the weight of a broken heart I have lungs I can breathe on my own. I don’t need a broken boy to feel that I have a purpose in life. I am my own destruction. I am my own salvation. I am no dream girl. Please wake up.

87

think about how we see ruins as beautiful like the Acropolis or the Colosseum and Pompeii, though they’ve spent years and years breaking, crumbling, disintegrating, until all that’s left are fragments of what it used to be but we still see it today with awe and admire all of its glory and i think maybe it’s the same with people it’s easy to fall in love with the remains of something you did not see fall apart first.

0

Aug 14, 2016

Aug 14, 2016 at 9:16 AM UTC

Ruins

think about how we see ruins as beautiful like the Acropolis or the Colosseum and Pompeii, though they’ve spent years and years breaking, crumbling, disintegrating, until all that’s left are fragments of what it used to be but we still see it today with awe and admire all of its glory and i think maybe it’s the same with people it’s easy to fall in love with the remains of something you did not see fall apart first.

22

Thank you for staying alive today. Thank you for waking up and stretching your branches up to heaven even though sometimes they’re too weak to grow and reach further. Thank you for opening your eyes even though sometimes the darkness is more peaceful than the light. Thank you for deciding to take in oxygen and never letting out of it, never holding your breath, Ready to dive in to the day Ready to drown, Ready to fight back the waters. Thank you for staying here. Because you matter to me, to your friends, to your family, And that is enough. You are enough. Always. Thank you for being a fighter. even though sometimes you feel like nobody notices, nobody cares, nobody appreciates, and that the world is continuously Stepping on your fingers from holding on. Thank you for going into the world with bloodied bandages on your arms and feet Everyday may be a battlefield You get wounded. You feel that you’re weak But wounds are not your kryptonite. They can only make you stronger. Because you know better I understand that you’re below empty I understand that you don’t want to do this anymore. I understand how it feels like when you just want everything to stop. But the truth is this Life may not be the most beautiful thing in this world for you right now but maybe someday you'll understand that life needs to throw you into the fires, scorch your skin, burn your flesh, for you to be reborn.

0

Jul 1, 2016

Jul 1, 2016 at 8:51 AM UTC

Rebirth

Thank you for staying alive today. Thank you for waking up and stretching your branches up to heaven even though sometimes they’re too weak to grow and reach further. Thank you for opening your eyes even though sometimes the darkness is more peaceful than the light. Thank you for deciding to take in oxygen and never letting out of it, never holding your breath, Ready to dive in to the day Ready to drown, Ready to fight back the waters. Thank you for staying here. Because you matter to me, to your friends, to your family, And that is enough. You are enough. Always. Thank you for being a fighter. even though sometimes you feel like nobody notices, nobody cares, nobody appreciates, and that the world is continuously Stepping on your fingers from holding on. Thank you for going into the world with bloodied bandages on your arms and feet Everyday may be a battlefield You get wounded. You feel that you’re weak But wounds are not your kryptonite. They can only make you stronger. Because you know better I understand that you’re below empty I understand that you don’t want to do this anymore. I understand how it feels like when you just want everything to stop. But the truth is this Life may not be the most beautiful thing in this world for you right now but maybe someday you'll understand that life needs to throw you into the fires, scorch your skin, burn your flesh, for you to be reborn.

48